The Great Oak
by eDiNbUrgh
Summary: What if placing an acorn in a hole means starting a tradition which would last for generations? Hermione had no idea of that when she placed her acorn in her hole, as a mourning sign of her husband. NOT part of my Weasley Chronicles.
1. The Tiny Acorn

**The Tiny Acorn**

_July 18th, 2022_

July 18th. Right in the middle of the summer. Nearly the only time at year when the children were home. Maybe it was a great time to go and drop dead. Let the children mourn during summer and then have a normal year at school.

Hermione didn't agree. Why drop dead at all? She didn't get it. Was he really gone? Had he left her to raise the kids on her own?  
>Not a tear had fallen from her eyes. Not yet.<p>

She pushed the shovel into the muddy ground. It gave away quickly, it had rained all summer. Maybe the rain had taken her tears as well. She stood there and watched the little hole that she'd made. Hermione wasn't sure if it was a good idea what she was doing, but she was going to get through with it.

The acorn was in her pocket. She picked it up, looked at it. There was nothing special about it. Not yet, at least, and it wouldn't be for many years. Hermione had just picked it up while walking through the forest. At first, she didn't know why she even picked it up, but after thinking about it an idea was born.

The hole was both wide and deep enough, and so she placed the acorn at the bottom. The mud was once again at it's first place, and she had to sit down. It was exhausting to dig a hole while heartbroken. Because Hermione was, and her heart ached for the man she'd known for so long.

And so the tears came. Finally they left her eyes and dropped down on earth. Here, in her loneliness, she could allow herself to cry. Where no-one could see that she weren't able to hold the walls up, here she cried.

Why had he gone to work that morning, just a few days ago? He had joked about having a bad feeling that day, and it was a hint. Why hadn't he stayed at home, where he was safe? And why throw himself in front of a co-worker?

Hermione knew that there were so many questions, and far more few answers. She had to begun to think about it, to search for answers. Then the truth hit her - there were no more mysteries left to figure out, You-know-who was dead, his death eaters were gone. Her husband was dead as well. There were no mysteries left to solve.

She stood up, forcing herself to stop cry. When she'd walk into the house, she'd be nothing but happy. She would be strong. She would smile and talk to her children, to her parents-in-law, and to her friends. Just as normal. Nothing special had happened today.

And so she turned her back against the buried acorn, and slowly walked down the hill. A year, and then she would be back. Hermione watched the Burrow. Nothing would ever be normal again, but slowly non-normal things would become normal. Life would go on.


	2. The Small Tree

**The Small Tree**

_July 18th, 2023_

July 18th. Right in the middle of the summer. A very dry summer, it hadn't rained since June 14th. This time it had nothing to do with Hermiones tears. She hadn't cried since Christmas Eve.

She could feel the warmth from her kids, desperately clasping their hands. Maybe it was awkward for nearly seventeen Rose and fifteen year old Hugo. Their mother didn't care, didn't think of that, she needed to feel them, needed their support.

Only Hermione knew where they were going. As they walked up the tiny hill, she searched for her tiny oak. Surely something must have popped up during a years time. A little, tiny leaf, or just anything. She needed the oak to be there.

The sun stood high. Making itself shine even brighter and let the warm weather get even warmer. Making Rose's red hair shine and glitter, and making Hugo's pale skin look even paler.

"Mom, why are we here?" asked Hugo, who were awfully bored of the walk to nowhere. He was just about to move his feet – as you do when you walk – when his mother cried out a 'stop'.

His foot froze just over something which might look like nothing, but for Hermione it was everything. She had found her oak, tiny it was, but it would become an oak. Later on.

"What is _that_?" Rose watched the green leaves curiously, not to mention with wonder. How come this teeny tiny tree meant so much for her mother, that Hugo couldn't even place his foot over it?

"_That _is why I brought you here", answered Hermione, falling to her knees beside the tree. She studied it for a long time, gave it some water that she produced with her wand and then watched it again. She sighed – but it was a lucky sigh, a sigh that let out all the nervous feelings she had been holding back about the tree.

"I planted it here, a year ago. As a memory of your father."

"Oh." Hugo took his almost-man body and curled up beside the tree. A tree that weren't a tree, but he wouldn't say something that would destroy for his mother. A closeness like this they hadn't had since … since that day.

Rose sighed as well, and sat down beside her mother and brother. Not a day went without missing her father, but he wouldn't want them to grief so much. He most likely would want them to keep living – but one day a year wasn't forbidden, and for her mother, who likely hadn't grieved for a year, certainly deserved it.

"Next year, will grandma and grandpa come too? And all of our aunts and uncles?" She asked her mother instead, who was putting her head against the dry mud and watching the soon-to-be-oak.

Hermione didn't have an answer for that. She hadn't even thought about it yet – because you gotta live in the present, not the future and certainly not the past. She sighed once again and then looked at her children.

"Of course. They're his family too."

"Can we bring food next year?" asked Hugo, who had gotten his fathers appetite.

Both Rose and Hermione laughed. "Yes, we can", said his mother and rubbed playfully his red hair.

Sometimes kids got to be kids, not have to have all the responsibilities that grown ups have. They don't have to mourn all the time, but it did not hurt to hear them say that they missed Ron or that they either loved him or Hermione.

They laid there in the grass, watching the oak. They didn't talk – there was no need to talk. In that moment they could feel whatever the others felt, and there were happiness and there was many thoughts about how, yes, lucky they were that at least had each other.

After a long time, presumably two hours, Hugo and Rose decided to go back to the Burrow, to have lunch. Their mother weren't ready to leave quite yet, and she needed some alone time with her former husband.

"Hi, Ron."

It was only a tiny oak, for anyone except for Hermione. For her this teeny tiny not-even-an-oak-yet represented her husband, and therefore she told that little tree everything that had happened the past year.

She told it what the kids had gotten for Christmas gifts and what Rose would receive next month at her birthday, but she also told him about the grades Rose had gotten last summer in her OWL's and how excited she was that Hugo would do his this year.

Hermione talked about Harry and Ginny, Molly and Arthur, all of Ron's brothers and sisters-in-law, about Teddy and Victoire's new born baby. She even talked about the weather when there was nothing left to talk about.

She was so calm while talking, she didn't need to hear an answer to continue on, the feeling that Ron listened to her was good enough.

Then finally the time came. The time when she would return to the Burrow as well, ready or not. But Hermione thought she was ready. There hadn't been any tears this time – there had been no need to.

Another year, and then she would come back. Come back with a daughter who was a woman and a witch by that time, a son who had done his OWL's (and Hermione didn't doubt it would go well for him), with both her and Ron's best friend Harry, Ron's little sister and other family, with all the nieces and nephews that normally came with the Weasley family.

And next year, they would have a picnic.


	3. The Growing Oak

Hey again. :)  
>So, I know it's been a while, but this took way to long to write. Oops. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing (when I finally did), and that you find it to have not only sorrow, but many other aspects of life, such as humor. Well, I'm not going to force you read more of this Queen of Babble, so here you go. Please tell me what you thought about it.<br>Thank you!

**The Growing Oak**

July 18th. Right in the middle of the summer. A summer that for the first time included grandchildren for Hermione Weasley. It was Rose's child and it was a little baby boy, two months old on the day.

Harry and Ginny's oldest son James had also gotten a child during the year which had gone, a boy there too. Most of Ron's brothers had become grandparents by the time, a few of them, like Bill & Fleur, more than once.

But the whole Weasley family walked up to the hill that morning, planning to spend the whole day there, as they've done the last three years. Molly had once again been cooking a fabulous lunch for them all, and Rose, who loved her grandma dearly, had helped even though she had been caring her son on the arm most of the time and been more of a burden than help for Molly.

As always, the family became very quiet when they finally reached the tree. Yes, now it could be called a tree. It wasn't very big as the oaks in the forest beneath Ottery St Catchpole, but, eventually (which had been the plan the whole time, at least in Hermiones' head) it would grow very big and turn in to at beautiful tree.

The last few years Hermione hade brought the whole family, just as she had promised her children to do, and it had been the nicest moment. They'd all have fun and maybe they've grown even closer to each other, and the family had grown bigger just as the oak had grown bigger.

But Hermione had always stayed the longest, updating Ron on the news, and two years ago it had been that Rose and her now-husband Scorpius ("Yes, Ron, Scorpius Malfoy", she had told Ron) were married and that she had walked done the aisle with Rose. What Hugo had gotten in his final exams. She had been very proud to tell him that Lily Potter, their niece, had gotten the highest grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

And this year, she took hers and Rons' first grandchild to the oak, which now was big enough to have the title oak. She sat there with her grandson, whom smiled and looked up at the green leaves with his blue eyes.

"You want to know his name?" Hermione asked the tree, but didn't wait for answers. That would be waste of time, since a tree can't talk. "And don't laugh, Ronald. It's Lynx Arthur Malfoy."

Even though she had told the tree not to laugh, she couldn't help that her lips curled up to an almost-laughing smile. It was a silly name, and ironic that the two persons who hated each other the most (Arthur and Lucius), would share name with the lovely baby she had in her knee.

Rose came and got her son when it was time to eat, and as Hermione rose she promised to come after lunch. A several persons visited the tree before her after lunch, including Molly and Arthur. The first year they'd been there, Molly hade been so touched by the tree and the whole idea she'd broke down in tears.

Not this year. This year they simply stood there, told the tree that they missed him and that they loved him. After that, they left it, going to watch their now grown-up grandchildren playing a not-so-fair quidditch game.

George and Angelina also visited the tree, a short visit where they looked at it and finally rose, kissing each other and being happy that they had each other at least.

Hermione watched the quidditch game – and what a game, Ron would have been proud of his children and their cousins – with one eye and kept the other one on her beloved oak.

Ginny sat beside it, with Harry curled up against her chest. They had the same relaxed way that Hermione used to have, and just as she did, they talked to the tree, telling Ron what had happened during the year.

Hermione decided to go to them, and Harry gave her a smile as she sat down. He took her hand, and Ginny smiled brightly towards her. Somehow, they always did this. And while they we're there, the four of them (yes, the four of them) they didn't talk. Mostly because like many other times, they didn't need to do it. They understood either way. And because, a tree of course doesn't talk.

Hermione sighed and crossed her legs and looked at the tree. She had to break the ice.

"Do you think he'd be happy?"

"Huh?" Harry looked up.

"Do you think he'd be happy? That we did this every year for him?"

Ginny shook her head. Her smile had the same characteristic twist as the twins, and in many ways she we're a lot like them. But then again, she was a lot like all of her brothers. "Sure he'd be happy to have his fifteen minutes of fame, but he'd be happy to see that we did this like a family."

Hermione nodded slowly. He'd be happy for that reason. All of a sudden, she rose. Why hadn't she thought of this years ago? Or, rather three years ago when she finally had brought the whole Weasley family.

"George!"

He looked rather scared, actually, remembering all of her outbursts in school while having called his name that way. "I haven't done anything! I just coached Rose how to knock James of the broom, and really, to be fair, it was a great knock out she gave him-"

She shook her head, just the way Ginny had done only minutes ago. "Do you want to plant an oak for Fred?"

He froze. It had been so, so many years ago since he had lost his twin. It didn't hurt every day anymore, but he surely missed someone to finish of his sentences, someone to discuss the new, great idea for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Now that Ron didn't live any longer, the only ones he could discuss these things was Bill, Charlie, Percy (no way), and Ginny. And to be fair – Ginny was the best option out of those four.

But Fred had always been the best.

"Yes." George nodded, determined and thankful for such a wonderful idea. "Yes, I'd love that."


	4. The Four Oaks

Hi everyone!

I'm sorry for me being away for so long, and that wasn't meant to happen. But now I've finally have found my joy of writing again, and therefor this was the first fanfic I sat down and decided to continue on. I actually have an idea of how it should end. (Well, that was actually the first thing in the story I came up with.)

But either way. Enjoy!

The Four Oaks

July 18th. Right in the middle of the summer. Just as the summer eleven years earlier, it included grandchildren for Hermione. Two, but one more was on its way. Hugo had settled down with his now wife Augusta (yup, the daughter of Neville and Hannah Longbottom) and they were expecting they're first child in August.

Hermione couldn't wipe away the smile from her face when she saw Augusta. Her daughter-in-law, so much alike her mother in appearance and just like her father in the way to act. And with the huge belly that bumped into everyone every time she tried to come through.

But Augusta wasn't the only one pregnant for the moment. There were actually three pregnant Weasley-women by the oaks this day. Albus Potters wife Grace, and Percy's daughter Molly, who had married Ian Finch-Fletchley (oh yes, Justins son).

Percy too, was bright as the sun this day. To finally have the chance of being a grandpa, after the terrible accident with his other daughter, Lucy, nine years ago. Everyone had been shocked, but then again, no. How could someone of that personality twiddle one's thumbs? Of course Lucy had thrown herself right out to save her sweet first cousin once removed in the lake. Alvin was two year old. He couldn't swim. Lucy could, but not away from the kelpie.

Lucy had one of the oaks now. Hers were the third. The fourth belonged to Charlie. He too died young. He loved his dragons and died with those dragons. Died protecting them.

In eleven years three Weasleys died protecting someone else. Eleven years that proved just how brave the Weasley's were.

This year, if Ron watched his oldest grandson, he would see that the little boy with the golden hair would begin Hogwarts.

To anyone but little Lynx it was hilarious to discuss in what house this odd child would be in, with a Gryffindor mother and Slytherin father, and not even Hermione felt certain. She would comfort her grandson no matter what and support the hats decision too, if it felt that Lynx had to be in Slytherin.

Because although her family only considered those two houses, Hermione had secret wishes for her grandson to be in Ravenclaw, which had been an option for both her and Rose. Victorie was the only Weasley to ever be put in the Ravenclaw house and that had been twenty-five years now, Hermione really thought it was about time.

"Hi Ron", she said, and as usual, she didn't wait for the oak to reply. "You're getting another grandchild in a month; Hugo is going to be a father. Do you realize that? Our baby Hugo is going to have a baby. I'm sure he'll be a great dad …"

She dozed off a little, sweeping over the hills with those brown eyes of hers, and told the tree little things once in a while. With four oaks now, there were no need to crowd every one of them, but people sat beside every tree the amount of time they felt was needed, and then moved along to either the next tree or the food.

Quidditch was as always being played and today it was an all-girls team against all-boys. It was a fun game to watch and Hermione were sure that Ron would have enjoyed watching it too. Well, not watching. Playing of course. Who could possibly miss the joy of pushing someone down?

"Lyra, honey", Hermione patted the green grass beside her and her granddaughter happily sat down. Soon she was leaning on her grandmother and they watched the game together.

When the game was over (George couldn't stop telling Angelina with how much the boys had won the game) they all sat down for eating some pie that Molly had baked earlier this morning.

"We'll take you next year!" Angelina promised and giggled, and put a spoon with pie in George's mouth to keep him from answering.

"No", Dominique Weasley moaned. "Next year I want to play us against all parents!" Her brown eyes lit up with excitement.

"That is next year, Nikki'", her brother informed. "Let's not go the events on beforehand."

"Well said, Louis." Harry swept into the conversation faster than anyone expected, ending it. "Cheers to that!"

"Cheers!"


	5. The Great Oak

The Great Oak

July 18th. Right in the middle of the summer. It had rained the days before this particular date, but not today. The Weasleys were very happy that it didn't because now they could have their annual picnic.

A whole bunch of gingers walked up the hill this morning. They had expanded over the years, they were so many of them now that no one actually knew exactly how many. Most of them still wore them name Weasley, and as always, there were children involved.

The usual Quidditch game was spent in a tournament, because they could now form almost five teams, and two or three were judges. And as usual, now Quidditch game was complete until someone knocked their cousin of the broom.

Our dear Hermione passed away a long time ago, after a long and beautiful life with grandchildren, great grandchildren and many more. The last of her generation to move on was Ginny, with the age 114.

But the Weasleys lived on. They wouldn't let death disturb them, they'd plant another tree. They barley visited the graveyards anymore, they'd come here. To the oaks.

When this year's Quidditch Cup winners was announced by old Tristan Lupin (the grandchild of Teddy Lupin and Victorie) it was called for lunch. When almost every one of them headed for the picnic and food, there was one little boy who didn't.

He stood watching the biggest oak of them all, and it was huge. The boy had flaming red hair, so characteristic for the Weasleys, and the brightest blue eyes of them all. He tilted his head to the left, curiously studying the tree.

He was about five or six and wondered where the tree came from. Why it was there. Why they all visited the trees every year this one day. Why not at Christmas, or the Easter?

"Honey, are you coming?" A woman, the little boy's mother, came walking up to him. She too was a redhead, a very pretty one with freckles all over her face. Freckles that her son had inherited.

"Mom, how old is the oak?"

"Oh, I don't know …" The woman put on the mother-face when she thought if it was best to try a guess or leave him with that answer. "I bet it's a hundred years, what do you think?"

"Yeah. I think its hundred years." The boy nodded very seriously to himself, it seemed very accurate. "Why are we here mom?"

So many questions, his mother thought, and she was starting to get hungry. "I think it is because someone died and that his wife planted this oak to his memory. And then we started doing that every time someone dies."

"Oh." The little boy became serious once more, getting that thoughtful look only a six-year old could have. "Do you know whose tree this is?" He pointed at the biggest oak, the one who rose several meters above ground, the one with the biggest crown of them all.

His mother shook her head. "No, I don't."

They were silent for a little moment, and when the mother felt her stomach screaming for food, she looked at her son. "Come on now, we have to go so that we get any food at all." She smiled brightly – she knew how to make him come with her: "I heard there's chicken, Ronald."

Ronald's face broke into a smile; chicken was the best on earth. But before he left, he hugged the Great Oak. His ancestor. His namesake.

* * *

><p><strong>So. It's finished. Finito. Done. <strong>

**I just want to say thank you to you who has read this, who reviewed it, and so on. I enjoyed writing it. No, I loved writing it. **

**Thank you. 3**


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